


the sun's coming out but i'm feeling colder

by nymeriastarks



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, everyone wants him to lay down and relax, insight on elliot's rest patterns, sleep problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:26:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8144006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymeriastarks/pseuds/nymeriastarks
Summary: elliot alderson’s usual state was exhaustion.





	

elliot alderson’s usual state was exhaustion.

after they were left alone with their mother, for both darlene and him sleep was a rare occurrence. it happened a lot: he’d crawl into her room at night, or knock quietly on her door at 4am stuttering over his words with uncomfortably dry tear trails on his cheeks. so darlene hugged him tightly and let him in, cleaning his face with some water from the bottle on her nightstand and whatever shirt she picked up from the ground. she held his hand and led him to her bed and him, pretending not to notice it was pristinely made, asked whether he’d woken her up. she always answered with a ‘now i’ll sleep better. come here’. 

alone, elliot spent days running on virtually no rest except for the involuntary naps here and there and the occasional passing out on the couch. he secluded himself in his room with his computer open and his hands roaming over the keyboard almost on autopilot, hacking everyone he could remember just for the sake of keeping himself busy. his first hack was a library, he remembers it still. stupidly easy to crack, barely even a challenge really, but he was so, so proud of himself for it. the last thing he’d hacked as of now was his psychologist’s attempt at a boyfriend; sadly, it was a poor one.  
he hoped she would find someone better in time. he knew too well what loneliness felt like.

when angela stayed over for the night, it was usually because their movie had gone on for longer than they planned and it wasn’t safe for angela to walk back home alone. and every time she slept at elliot’s flat she tried to make sure he got his ‘beauty sleep’, but she usually dozed off before he could even think about going to bed. when she did, he tried to stay away: angela was a light sleeper, and any sound or soft movement would make her stir or open her eyes momentarily, sigh tiredly and then go back to her dreamland.  
(elliot hoped it was a nice one.)

his days grew shorter when he met shayla. she invited herself over more times than not, taking over his small apartment like she’d lived there her entire life. she’d come in while he was doing something, wait for him to finish, and then wait for him to kiss her. she beckoned elliot to lay down as she smiled, and elliot did. she usually fell asleep first, but most of the time elliot couldn’t tell who was first or last. he liked the atmosphere that created; it almost felt like being in a coma. and in the mornings, it was the same: sometimes shayla was was showering by the time he opened his eyes, sometimes she wouldn’t move until midday, and really rarely she was waiting for him at the table with two bowls of cereal and told him that if he didn’t come soon, they’d get all soggy. they were his favorite days. he still missed them.

the first time he woke up in tyrell’s bed (and it had to be his, because he didn’t know anyone else with such an expensive taste) his mind went both blank and into overdrive. he had been alone, but not for long: tyrell came back as soon as he felt himself slip, and a part of elliot wondered if he’d done it on purpose. he was dressed the most informal clothing elliot had ever seen on him: a white fuzzy sweater and light grey sweatpants he’d have never guessed the man owned (maybe they were gifts). his hair was still messy from sleeping and he almost merged with the color palette of the walls, merely moving, and though he supposed the chameleonic features should frighten him, they made his mind start processing again instead. with time, elliot came to understand tyrell’s usual state was a flickering light, a constant variable: he’d wake up in the middle of the night to fetch water, and after getting into bed he’d stare at elliot for hours on end until he felt his eyelids flutter. sometimes, he moved around and some others he disappeared for a few hours. but he never dared make a noise, not a disturbance, because he too, like darlene, angela and shayla, just wanted him to close his eyes and rest. there’s plenty of time to live in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> title a lyric from cry baby by the neighbourhood. hope you enjoyed that, please comment? thanks for reading xx


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